


Beach Days

by GooseEgg



Series: The Wild Adventures of Bukara Snarlfang [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Hair-pulling, Lust, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Self-Indulgent, Smut, christ what do i tag this as even, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GooseEgg/pseuds/GooseEgg
Summary: Gadgetzan is a good city to take a break in. You never know which barrel-chested Vindicator you might run into.





	Beach Days

Despite the scorching sun, hot sands, and salty air, there was something distinctly inviting about Gadgetzan and its beaches. Maybe it was the sense of anonymity, in a city where everyone would remember or forget you for the right amount of gold. Maybe it was the neutrality, attracting everything from humans to tauren to any of the too-many types of elves.

 

Bukara couldn’t put her finger on it, and frankly she couldn’t care less, as she lay on her back in the sand, her fingers idly drawing circles as the sun beat down on her pale green skin. She sat up to take a drink (something in a coconut, very forcefully recommended by a little goblin with sunglasses), and looked around at those sharing the beach with her. No children, thankfully. Nobody would think to bring a child to a place like Gadgetzan. Poor thing would be snatched up and sold to a Trade Prince within minutes. No, this city and its beaches were filled with people like her; weary, exhausted, and in need of some relaxation.

 

Or a good fuck.

 

_ No, not that _ , she thought to herself.  _ You don’t need any of that, not from anyone here. _ She turned over onto her belly. As she did, she caught sight of a blood elf and a human not far from her, her head bobbing up and down in his lap, him gently stroking those ridiculously long ears of hers. The human caught her staring, and he winked at her. Bukara felt her cheeks flush as she turned quickly away, resting her head on her arms, acutely aware of a warmth in her swimsuit.

 

She had no idea how long she’d been lying there when she heard a familiar voice in front of her.

“Ah, Adare, my friend. I did not expect to see you in a town such as this.”

Bukara looked up, knowing exactly what she’d find. Sure enough, seven feet of barrel-chested draenei stood in the sand in front of her, his head cleanshaven, and two lengthy tendrils drooping down his chest. His  _ bare _ chest. The familiar warmth returned

 

“Vindicator Tormos. I can’t say I expected to see you here either. Your Orcish is terrible, by the way.” Bukara pushed herself up onto her knees, glaring at the draenei she’d had more than one violent encounter with.  _ Think of what you could do at an angle like this _ , came the voice in her head.

 

“Your Common isn’t much better, Grunt Snarlfang.”

 

They glared at each other for a hot minute, the sun catching the sweat that ran gently down his torso. That well-built torso. She followed one particular bead down to his waistband, where the fabric sucked it up. Her eyes continued downward. She swore she could make out the outline of that thick, veiny--

 

“You look thirsty, my dear.” Her eyes snapped up to meet Tormos’ gaze. There was a knowing twinkle in his eye. Suddenly, she was very aware of just how dry her mouth really was. “Would you like to join me for a drink? I know a wonderfully secluded spot not far from here with a view of the waters.”

 

Bukara held for a moment. On one hand, she was comfortable on the beach. On the other, she felt certain she knew what Tormos was really hinting at, and she wouldn't say no to that either. After a long moment in which she was sure she saw Tormos eyeing her up, she made her choice.

 

“All right then.”

 

~~~

 

If there’s one thing Tormos wasn’t, it was a liar. Bukara felt like they’d been walking for days along the beachfront, past a number of goblin run bars, countless couples fucking right on the beach, and at least one troll who may or may not have been drowning.

When Tormos said secluded, he meant secluded.

 

Finally, after too long walking, and Tormos’ hand on her ass at least once (she pretended not to notice, but obligingly leaned into it), they arrived at a small and, yes, secluded cove. There was a small wooden house that wouldn't have gone amiss in Booty Bay, but seemed strangely out of place here. Outside it, one of those pink Draenei pylons floated gently a few feet off the ground. Presumably, this was the vindicator’s private abode. Privately, Bukara wondered how many other women had been given the privilege of visiting his inner sanctum. 

 

The voice in her head spoke up again.  _ We both know he doesn't live here. This is his fuckhouse, for greenskin sluts like you. _

 

Bukara felt her face flush, something that did not go unnoticed by the Draenei.

 

“You look warm, Grunt. Shall I get you some water? Or perhaps something stronger? I have two casks of Dalaran Red, if you would like.”

 

She was again aware of her stifling case of dry mouth. “The red, I think. It's a beautiful day to enjoy a buzz and the ocean breeze, right? And please call me Bukara.”

 

Tormos nodded obligingly, a polite smile on his face. As he turned to go inside, he glanced back at her and said in a soft, yet commanding tone, “I will call you what I please.”

 

Bukara bit her tongue to stifle a whimper. She was glad to have grabbed a skirt before leaving the beach, as she was now certain the front of her bathing suit would be soaked through. She lingered outside for a moment, before following him into the hut.

 

Her suspicions were marginally more confirmed. There was no way he lived here. Inside was spartan. A small pantry with a cooking fire, a sitting area, a bedroom, and a fourth room, behind a door she could only assume was locked. No doubt that's where the vindicator took his other conquests.

 

Since when did she think of herself as one of his conquests?

 

She sat herself in a chair by the window, the breeze doing what it could to cool her off. After a few moments, Tormos sat opposite her, leaning back in what she assumed was his favourite chair. She couldn't help but notice he'd spread his legs particularly wide. Invitingly wide.

 

“You know, I rather appear to have forgotten our drinks,” he rumbled. She met his eye. That knowing twinkle was there again. “But then, I don't think red wine is what you're thirsty for, is it, Bukara?”

 

“I don't know what you mean, Vindicator.”  _ Attagirl, use his title, get the high ground. _

 

Tormos sat forward, bringing himself to the edge of his seat. “Oh? So you haven't been stealing glances at me? You weren't on your knees earlier wondering what it would be like if I grabbed those braids on top of your head and put your mouth to work?”

 

She went to bite her tongue, but was a moment too late, as a soft whimper escaped her lips. The wetness in her suit intensified. Tormos laughed. “I have my answer.” He sat back again, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

 

She glared at him. “Well, so what? Don't let it go to your head, I’d feel the same way for anyone right now.” She stole a glance down at his lower body. “Although it seems you’ve already let it go to your head.” She could see it swelling through his trousers. Fuck, it was almost as long as his thigh. She swallowed hard. How long had she been drooling for? Almost on cue, he ran one hand down the length of it, letting out a soft groan.

 

Bukara stared transfixed as his hands came to his waist, slowly undoing the laces of his trousers. He stood up and slid them down his legs. As they passed the knee, it sprang up, long and thick, the head a beautiful shade of dark blue.

 

“Fuck.”

 

She barely registered that she’d spoken. Tormos sat back down and leaned back, his cock on proud display. She hadn’t taken her eyes off it. Instinctively, she slid forward off her chair, onto her hands and knees, and crawled across the floor towards it, never breaking eye contact. She could feel herself dripping out of her swimsuit as she sat on her knees in front of him, close enough that he could feel her warm breath.

 

_ Touch it. _

 

She reached out a hand and gently stroked the shaft. It was thicker than she’d been expecting; she could barely get one hand around it.

 

_ Taste it. _

 

Bukara leaned forward and stuck out her tongue, gently tracing the entire length of it, from base to tip. As she reached the tip, she swirled her tongue around briefly, before surrendering to the warmth in her cunt and wrapping her lips around it greedily. She bobbed her head downwards, gradually taking more and more into her mouth.

 

Sparing a moment from her work, she glanced up. Tormos stared back down at her, unimpressed. “I’ve had better from a blood elf,” he growled. She drew her head back, a curse forming in her throat.

 

Suddenly, he surged forward, grabbing her topbraids and forcing himself into her mouth and down her throat. Bukara let out a squeal of surprise as her eyes went wide. The voice in her head was screaming a loud and constant “ _ YES _ ” as the draenei aggressively fucked his cock down her throat, her wet gags only making him twitch inside her. She stared up at him, tears welling in her eyes and blurring her vision, as he rammed himself repeatedly down her throat, trying to push himself deeper each time.

 

He grunted as his cock twitched, and she knew what was happening. One hand instinctively flew to her throat as she felt him spurt cum inside her, filling her throat and her belly. He let go of her braids as his orgasm continued, but she kept herself obediently throated on him. As she felt it slow, she pulled her head back. He slid out of her throat with a wet pop and she gasped as it gave a final few spurts, filling her mouth and covering her face. Bukara fell back, lying on the floor, her belly full and her face covered in draenei cum.

 

_ Delicious _ .

 

\--

 

She had no idea how long she’d been lying there when Tormos reappeared in her view, his trousers back on and his cock no longer straining against the fabric.

 

“I would love to stay and have a few goes at that wonderful greenskin ass you have, but I’m needed elsewhere, Grunt Snarlfang. I hope you remember the way back to Gadgetzan. This is a very unpleasant area after nightfall.”

With that, he left.

 

Bukara lay there, more frustrated than ever. She could still feel him in her throat; his cum in her belly and still drying on her face.

 

Lying there, like the well-used throatfucked slut she was, she slipped a hand inside her swimsuit and set to work.

**Author's Note:**

> *nosebleed*


End file.
